


Limbo University.

by rxdiansa (YukitenTheDark)



Category: DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, College, Comfort, F/M, Injury, Party, Rape, Rescue, University AU, Violence, frat party, shit idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:03:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukitenTheDark/pseuds/rxdiansa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bianca doesn't have too many friends and the only one she's got, superficial though the friendship is, invites her to a party. Right off the bat, she knew something horrible would happen - and it does. Thankfully, it results in meeting someone she never thought she needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, you wanna go to a party with me? Y'know, Verri’s?”

“A…party? Um…Why?” Bianca asked simply, running her fingers through her hair. Blue eyes rose from ink blots and complicated sentence structures, resting on the narrow-faced girl she’d met only days before. Dull brown eyes, strawberry blonde hair that framed her face perfectly, long and well-kept. Freckles dotted her skin, crossing at the bridge of her nose, and her lips were pulled into a small smile, eyes full of excitement.

An invitation to a party from one of the more…socially adept students in school wasn’t something she could take lightly, or even dismiss. For years, she’d been trying to be recognized as something other than the scrub her mother so often painted her out to be before she died, a reminder she would have to face no matter where she went, who she spoke to. Her mother made certain that she would be remembered as a pathetic pleb before anyone could ever think of her as good company.

A party was a perfect opportunity to prove her wrong. Perhaps it could even open the door to befriending someone. And, while it wasn’t her only chance, she would take advantage of it.

Even if her stomach lurched at the mere thought of it.

“Uh, yeah. Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven,” the girl, whose name she forgot the moment it rolled off her tongue when she met her, articulated plainly before she spun around and padded off in the direction of the northward corridor leading to the drama classrooms. The minute she disappeared into the throng of other students, Bianca’s eyes dropped right down to her essay, though every intention to write it had disappeared with the other girl.

She frowned and ran her fingers through her hair a second time, tapping her pen on her bottom lip. She couldn’t focus.

A soft grumble of frustration left her and she looked up again, her eyes finding a head of silver and orbs even bluer than her own. They were fixed on bulletin board, analyzing every flyer or postage of test scores, swiftly sweeping over any and all information presented. And once they’d had their fill, he turned on his heel and walked with elegance and care toward the southward corridor on the other side of her, his eyes briefly meeting her own before continuing.

Her brows drew together and she went back to fiddling with her pen, looking away and pretending as though she hadn’t been caught in the act. It was embarrassing.

People came in all flavors at Limbo University and the one she’d just tasted was a strange one indeed. Pink and blue hair was a typical choice amongst the other students, but silver? And a shade so bright as that? Not to mention those cold, calculating eyes. She swallowed.

People.

 

~~~

 

Bianca thumbed the hem of her leather lace-up and bit her lip, wondering if this were really a good idea.

She wanted to be recognized as something other than a pushover and a loser, but would it be worth it? Drugs and alcohol would most assuredly be featured at the party and while she’d taken part in them at some point growing up, that was all behind her now. And as she stood outside, her eyes shut tight, waiting for Verri and the other girl who’d invited her along to stop fucking talking, fear bloomed in her belly and soon her nerves took hold of her.

What point is there in doing this? What point is there in showing up just to prove some petty point? Why stand around and wait when I could just be at home, in the safety of my bed, without having to worry about a goddamn thing?

Her body shook and she peeked down at her hands, every finger quaking with anxiety. A frown slipped across her features and it took every part of her to ignore the extraordinarily loud music exploding from the house she so waited to scurry into. It was too loud and probably full of too many people. She swallowed and shifted her weight uncomfortably, fidgeting with the hem of her lace-up some more.

Gods, she didn’t want to go in anymore. 

There was too much noise, too many people, too many bright lights, and she caught the scent of beer on the air.

Fuck. What did she get herself into?

Her eyes locked with the green, brown, hazel. Looking all around, she recognized many from her class, but the vast majority were from other schools, friends of friends of Verri and friends of friends of her guests. She found no comfort in knowing so few. She took a step back and in doing so, in wanting so badly to retreat, she bumped into some guy, laughing over the beer spilling onto his shirt. And of course, she spun on her heel to apologize, reaching for his shirt to try and wring it out. He only laughed and dismissed her with a wave, to which she recoiled and stepped away.

But she didn’t expect the words that slithered past his lips.

“Wanna… go upstairs?” he questioned, voice deep and heavy with the alcohol she’d just spilled all over him. He pointed at her with his free hand and his eyes lit up as if he’d realized something monumental. “You’re that girl Jessica invited.”

“I–Yeah, I am,” she answered shyly, rubbing her neck. Why did he ask that? 

“You’re a pretty hot babe,” he continued, every word a painful drawl. She cringed and shook her head.

“No, no I’m not.” She chuckled nervously.

“Aw, c’mon, you totally are.” He came closer, his free hand searching for her waist. She swallowed hard, understanding now what his intentions were, frozen dead where she stood. She was…unnerved. His eyes were dull and green, glazed over with malicious intent and– His breath was potent with the smell of beer and something else. What was it…vodka? She paled in his shadow and a shaky breath left her.

His hazy eyes raked over her, drinking in her cowering form, calculating, hungry, and as his fingers slid to her hip, a toothy, suggestive grin tugged at his lips. She turned her head and eyes away, searching for Verri and Jessica, trying to place names to faces but coming up empty handed.

Fuck. 

Bianca was afraid, now, shivers traveling up and down her spine as the man with beer and vodka clinging to his breath drew her closer, pressing his body against hers. She swallowed and shook her head quickly, shutting her eyes as tightly as she could.

“Let me go, please.”

“Mmm, no,” he teased quietly, making some poor attempt at being - what was it, sexy? His hand slowly worked its way to her backside and squeezed once it got a handful. A yelp left her and she could feel her face heat up with both embarrassment and the fear that twirled in her belly. She wanted so badly to pull away from him, but he left no room for her to escape and his grip was strong. 

“Please,” she whispered, her hands pressed flat against his chest in an effort to deny him, to push him back, give herself some space. 

But it was all for naught.

He ignored her pleas and scooped her up in his arms, tossing her over his shoulder. Tightly, he held her there and no matter how she struggled, no matter how much she flailed her arms and kicked her legs, his grip never wavered. She didn’t like this.

What was going to happen? Exactly what she feared. What was he going to do? Nothing she wanted to know. 

And she could’ve prevented this. If she’d just stayed home… Tears welled up in her eyes and threatened to spill over, but she held her breath and tried to fight it every step of the way. She didn’t want anything to happen. She didn’t want to fall victim to some stupid drunk at a frat party. She didn’t want anything. Her fists pounded into his back and her knees drove into his gut, beer spilling all over them both.

But it wasn’t fucking working.

“If you keep doin’ that, we’ll just do it here,” he snapped and her eyes popped open, surveying the bottom floor of the house. Every other college kid from Limbo University or somewhere else was pressed against each other as they danced to the thumping, impossibly loud music Bianca wasn’t so sure how she was able to ignore. Glow sticks were wrapped around everyone’s necks and glowing paint was splattered all over the walls, colored lights flashing in the hallway, in the stairwell. She eyed the stairs themselves. Fifteen of them. 

She was going to be sick.

All she wanted was to go home.

“Please, just put me down,” she begged him, the tears in her eyes finally starting to flow. And as they fell, she recieved no response and instead, she was carried down the hall.

So she kicked and punched and fought him every step of his drunken way, sniffling and sobbing through it. She’d be damned if she was going to be a victim. 

“Let me go!” she howled, landing a solid blow to his gut. 

And the reaction she got was worse than what she expected.

“Fucking bitch!” he hissed with a tone so angry, so unaffected. He’d spun around quickly and when he did, she hit her head on a light fixture, a sharp pain throbbing in her head. Before she could comprehend it, the pain all she could focus on, the warmth of his body left her and her head collided with a stair step.

Down she went, her leg caught in a rung in the railing, her body tumbling and as she put her arms out to catch herself, she could feel her fingers bend backwards, her arms collapsing. And all that she could think of was the pain. She couldn’t comprehend how much there was or how many parts of her had cut open or broken. Her entire body was wracked with pain.

She couldn’t breathe. It hurt. 

She found herself in a pile at the bottom of the stairs, sobbing over a broken…dislocated knee and all the agony in her body. There was so much pain, so much blood. Tears dripped from her eyes like faucets that hadn’t been shut off, her chest aching and her lungs burning.

Fuck all of this. Fuck.

I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here. Why did I come? Why did I think that I could make friends at a fucking party when all I got was thrown down a flight of stairs? She was screaming in her head, her eyes tightly shut as she silently sobbed at the bottom of the stairs, her hands fluttering over every point of pain in her body.

She rocked herself back and forth and just…cried.

 

~~~

 

Bianca’d tried to put as little weight on her right leg as possible as she limped along on the path toward Limbo’s campus through the park, tears still slipping down her cheeks. Every part of her was filled with so much regret, so much pain, she was certain all she could recognize as real and tangible was pain and regret.

She hated that she’d gone to that party. She hated that she didn’t say no. She hated even more that she’d been abandoned on the street and her inability to protect herself properly. She hated herself. She hated the pain and the regret clear in her mind. She hated the blood staining her clothes and the fact she could hardly walk. She hated that her nose was still bleeding and she hated even more that all she could taste was blood. She hated that she had cuts and scrapes peppering her skin, that her eyes were swollen with bruising and tears.

She fucking hated that she’d put herself in harms way.

Not moments ago, she’d been resting on a park bench, tired and heavy, the pain having been too great for her to bear for how long she’d beared it. Her knee was dislocated and with every step, it would hurt more an more, no matter how careful she was not to put pressure on it.

But it was pointless. Effort wasn’t enough and her dorm was simply too far away.

Gods. Why? Her fingers danced across her face, sweeping away any tears before they fell. 

She was so tired….

Taking another step forward, another set of painful tears fell and she misplaced her trust in her footing, her knees buckling under her and even more unbeearable agony spreading. A broken sob left her, but she never touched the ground. The agony remained, but arms slid underneath her own and pulled back and upward, one of those arms very carefully lifting her so as not to hurt her anymore than she already was. 

A hot, burning breath escaped past her lips and her gaze was met with eyes recognizable, cold and blue. She…knew those eyes. She’d caught a brief glimpse of them not hours before…. At one point, their eyes had locked even. He was that…that guy in front of the bulletin board. Stony features came to mind and now that she saw him up close, her eyes half lidded and unfocused, she could confirm this, exhausted though she was.

As strange as she’d found him earlier that day, she felt…safe in his arms now. But fear overtook her heart and she weakly pawed at him, tears returning to her eyes.

“P-please, don’t–”

“Shh,” he whispered. “There’s nothing to fear.”

And though he was firm, she saw the sincerity in those eyes anc she ceased her protesting. 

She sniffled and, hesitantly, placed all her trust, all her pain and all her tears, in him, praying that under his watch, she would be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

She was tired - as always. Long days and even longer nights.

Midnight would roll around before she’d even set foot in the door, her keys plugged vicariously into the keyhole of the front door. And even though she was exhausted, even though her legs would hardly cooperate, she would find a way to the sofa and plant herself next to the only other occupant in the apartment, watch as millions of numbers and lines of code flashed across his laptop and his fingers power away at the keyboard with almost inhuman speed.

There, she would find herself staying, pulling her knees up and resting her head against his shoulder. He wouldn’t complain. Rather, he’d grunt quietly in response and continue. There would rarely be an exchange of greetings, only quiet breaths and simple nods. It was in this silence she’d find herself drifting, her lids heavy and slowly falling, thoughts and memories of when she’d first met him swirling about in her mind before sleep would overtake her.

It was roughly six months ago and under awful circumstances she’d met Vergil. In fact, it was after a party she’d been dragged to by the only friend she could’ve ever hoped to have made, and, to put it bluntly, she ran her mouth to the wrong drunk guy and found herself at the bottom of a flight of stairs with a dislocated knee and plenty of bruises and cuts to go round. She didn’t stay in that predicament long, pushing herself to her hands and knees, finding a rail or a stair step to hold onto as she got to her feet. Pain was no stranger to her so she quickly became used to it and limped her way out of the house and, before too long, she found a park bench. She rested there for about an hour before deciding to power through the rest of her walk to her dorm room. Of course, her knee gave out underneath her and a pair of gloved hands caught her just in time.

The memory wasn’t exactly pleasant and often trimmed to an almost irrecognizable set of clips in her mind, but it was the night in which she met him. And it was that night forward she was able to find solace in his company. He didn’t seem to mind her much, as if her presence was noted but put on the backburner until he was done cracking codes. But she was okay with that. She didn’t need flowery words of comfort nor his presence to feel reassurance and safety. All she needed was this; to come home after days too long and nights even longer to rest her head and drift away into the blackness of sleep where compassion and gentility and silence were enough.

She appreciated him in the quiet and she needed no more than he would give.


End file.
